Different
by Made of Stardust
Summary: (((Review, please!))) We know Petunia Dursley hates her sister, Lilly. But do we know why? (((Review, please!)))
1. Raspberry Jam

****

Explaining Petunia

By Ambush

A/N You have no idea how bad I feel for Petunia Dursley. No idea. Please read and review! I know this is short. I'm trying to get it going, though.

Petunia's window was cracked open all night, letting in the cool air on an July evening. She was dreaming of flying when the sun broke over the rooftops. Hours later, she woke to the smell of french toast wafting through the house. She was up in an instant, grinning. French toast was her absolute favourite food. It was a food group in itself, as far as she was concerned.

"Morning Pet," Said her father as she walked into the kitchen. "Have a good sleep?" 

"Great, Dad. It was so nice out, I had the window open. Is Lily up yet?"

She reached for a fork as she sat down, eager to begin eating. 

"Lily got up when she heard you mum get up, but I think she's in bed right now…-" He shrugged over his coffee mug as he was cut off.

"Morning, morning, toast!" sang Lily as she entered. 

Petunia and her little sister, Lily, got along well most of the time. 98% of the time, actually, thought Petunia. The rest of the time was spent in sisterly squabbles over television, radio stations, posessions, and clothes. Not that Lily could fit into most of Petunia's clothing. Petunia was taller and much thinner than Lily. 

"Petunia, pass the powdered sugar, would ya please?"

"Mmhmm – pass the raspberry jam here, then…"

"Lily, dear, hand your mother the coffee pot."

"Dad, can't you just--"

"Now then, Lily…"

"Yes, sir!"

"Petunia, why d'you eat raspberry jam on French toast?"

Petunia shrugged. "I'm just different."

When the sun set on this day, Petunia Evans would have a very different idea of what 'different' meant. 


	2. The Owl and the Letter

The sun was high and hot beating down on Petunia as she lay outside in the soft grass of her back yard. She was trying to read – a Nancy Drew book, she liked Nancy Drew – when she felt a spatter of cold water from the direction of the house.

"Lily!" She shouted. "Lily put the hose down, Lily, you'll soak my book!" 

"Come on, Petty, I want you to play with me!"

"No, Lily, not now, I'm reading, go find a book and read, yourself. It'll make you smarter."

"Hey, I _am_ smart!" Lily stuck her tongue out in a decidedly unattractive fashion.

"Yeah, for an immature little nine year old…" muttered Petunia. "No. I'll tell Mum if you don't leave off."

Lily, looking rejected and hurt, went back inside the house. 

__

Well, she doesn't have to be so…annoying. Thought Petunia. She felt a little twinge of guilt at making her younger sister feel unwanted. _I'll play with her later. She probably wants to pretend to be a Unicorn tamer again. _She rolled her eyes. Unicorns. Everyone knew they didn't exist outside of storybooks. 

She settled in to the shade of a nearby tree to finish reading. If she had stayed in the sunlight of the yard, she would have seen the shadow of a large barn owl swooping overhead. It sat on a branch, staring down at her unblinkingly, for a few minutes. Finally, it dropped a letter on her head.

She screamed and jumped sideways, flinging the letter off to the side. She looked as though it might bite her. This was normal behavior for an eleven year old girl who was at a pivotal spot in her Nancy Drew mystery novel, however. Presently, she came to herself, and bent down to pick up the heavy-looking letter.

The owl had already gone.

__

Why was an owl carrying a letter?! She thought in disbelief. It had just ocurred to her that an owl dropping a letter on her head was not normal. _It must be trained. It's probably someone's practical joke. Or it's for someone else, and the owl dropped it on me by mistake._

The letter had a large crest, bearing the letter H and an eagle, a lion, a badger, and a snake. The writing on the front said, "Miss Petunia Evans" in bold, green ink. 

Amazed, Petunia sat down to open it. 

"Petunia? Pet! Pet, were you mean to your sister? Petunia, where are you?" Her mother's voice sounded form the back screen door. Her mother was a slim, pretty woman with strawberry-blonde hair, and hazel eyes. 

"No, Mum, I told Lily not to soak my book, she had the hose!" Petuniea called back.

"Well, where are you?"

"Under the tree…"

"Are you still reading?"

__

Well, I am reading the letter, "Yes, Mum! And when I'm done I promise I'll play with Lily!"

"Good girl." 

She heard the screen door twang shut. 

Taking a deep breath, though she didn't know why she was nervous, she opened the letter. 


	3. What Petunia is not

****

Explaining Petunia Chapter 3

By Ambush

A/N Yeah, it's going slow. What can I say? I'm rusted.

There were a few sheets in the envelope, and the first slid out into Petunia's hand, as though eager for her to read it. She examined it front and back, and then read:

****

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

__

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sroc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards.)

Dear Miss Evans, 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

__

Deputy Headmistress

Suddenly, the afternoon sunshine seemed cooler. Petunia lowered the letter. Then she read it again. The she put I back down, on the grass by her knee. 

__

This would make sense, She thought. _This would explain the things I have done. _

Petunia sometimes made things happen, when she was very very happy, or terribly angry. Just the last week of school, she had done something strange again. Her teacher had read the last maths test scores out loud. Petunia was good at maths, but she'd been beaten by one little boy in her class. And Jeremyand his gang had laughed out loud, and called her dumb, as soon as class let out. Jeremy _never _let her alone, and she had been sick of it.

Blinking back furious tears, Petuinia had kept her head up and walked quickly towards her neighbourhood. Jeremy's taunting voice floated after her on the new summer breeze. She had turned to face him, when suddenly the pavement square had moved! It jumped sideways under his feet, and Jeremy fell flat on his back in mid taunt, and choked on his bubblegum. It took him a moments to spit it out, but when he managed, he turned to say something menacing to Petunia. 

She found it hard to be intimidated by a purple-faced boy with drool on his chin, however, and had walked away, laughing and grinning.

__

I must have imagined that, though, because pavement doesn't move. Not normal pavement, anyway. Petunia glanced back at the letter, coming out of her memory. The wind whistled through the tree branches, making the letter rustle for her attention._ Maybe…maybe it's not the pavement? Maybe it was _me. _I did that…?_

She shook her head. There was no way, NO WAY, that she was a freak like that! She was made fun of at school by boys, for being tall and skinny, and when she was mad… well, look what happened! And that didn't improve anything. It just made the boys angrier, and they came up with fresher insults for her. 

No, she was not different. 

__

No way. Not going to happen. Sorry, Minerva-whatever-your-name-is, I'm not going! 

Petunia rose with resolve, and tore the letter into tiny confetti-like pieces. She then scattered them in the garden, and went inside to play with Lily. 

She had forgotten about the envelope, with the supplies list inside. It lay propped against the tree trunk, waiting. It didn't cross her mind over dinner, nor did it ente her thoughts the next day. 


	4. The Forgotten Letter

And so, throughout the next few days, the letter lay forgotten under the tree. Forgotten until Lily decided she needed a tree fort. And since Lily, being short, and only nine, could not build a fort in a tree on her own, she enlisted the help of her father.

She started asking him at breakfast, and it soon became clear to him that he would not be able to do anything else until Lily had his help.

"Dad," sha began, in a voice as sweet as the maple syrup she was pouring on her waffles, "Dad, wouldn't it be cool to have a tree house? Didn't you have one when you were little?"

"Mmhhhmm…" Came her fathers disembodied voice from behind the paper. "That I did, Lil…"

"Dad, you want to help me build one? Dad? I know just where I want it…" She waited. "Dad?! Hello?? Dad are you listening…?"

"What Lily? Of course."

"Oh, so you'll help me! Great! Great, I want it in the tree in the backyard, the big one with the low branches!!" She yelled as she sprang up from the table. She was already on her way out the back door when her father realized what she was talking about.

However, he was a man who had love for his daughters in abundance, and a lot of patience. So with his toolbox in one hand, and coffee mug in the other, he went after Lily.

"Dad, dad, look! This is the perfect spot, look, the tree makes a ladder for me! See how I got up?" Lily called from more than half way up the tree.

  
'Lily! Good lord, be careful! Don't fall, come down here. I'll make the treehouse right there, if you want. But I'm going to make a ladder that safer than the branches."

Lily grinned. This was going to be perfect! "Sure, Dad. Thanks!" She ran to tell Petunia as her father started the platform of the fort. As soon as she disappeared indoors, her father backed down the tree and got his coffee. After all, there was no way he could work on a fort without caffiene, he thought. He sat back against the trunk of the tree, and, also, the letter that Petunia had left. It caught his attention as though it had pinched him. It certainly felt like it had! 

"Hogwarts…School of _what?_" He muttered. "Cauldron…wand… robes? What is this?" He read on. He came to another letter bearing the title"To the parents of Miss Petunia Evans."

****

To the parents of Miss Petunia Evans,

We are pleased to inform you that your daughter has been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This may come as a shock to you, and your daughter. I would like to take this opportunity to assure you that this is a perfectly normal occurance. 

Although you are not aware of it, there is a large magical community in England, and other countires. Many witches and wizards live scattered throughout Non-Magic neighbourhoods. They send their children to attend Hogwarts School to educate them in the basics of Charms, Astronomy, Potions, History of Magic, and other important subjects. 

We do not accept only those of magical background, however. At Hogwarts, we accept many students from non-magic backgrounds who have magical ability and show promise of being great witches or wizards. Petunia has both the ability and the promise, and we would be very pleased to answer any questions you may have concerning Hogwarts. Simply write your questions on the blank sheet of parchment enclosed with this letter, and you will receive an answer promptly.

With best wishes,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster

and

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Mr. Evans leaned back against the tree again. _Well! I'll be damned. _He thought. _Why didn't Petty tell us about this? _With that, the tree fort forgotten, he got up and nearly ran to the house.

"Petty! Petunia Evans, where have you gone?" He yelled.

A very irritable "What?" was the only answer he got.

"Petunia! Why didn't you tell us, you're a witch!" He exclaimed. 

Petunia froze on the landing of the stairs. "Am not."

"But Pet, you have a letter! You're a witch, you're going to Hogwarts. You sent them an owl, right?"

"No."

"Mom," Came Lily's voice. "He's s'posed to be making my fort!!!"

"Harold, what's going on?" Cheryl poked her face around the corner.

"Pet's a witch!" He grinned broadly. "My great-great-great grandma Olivia was a witch, but we haven't had a witch or wizard in the family for ages." 


	5. The Reply

Petunia's face flushed brightly. There had been another person like her in the family? There was another…freak? It was her family's fault! She glared at her father. 

__

Why is he so pleased with himself? If he's so happy, why doesn't he go! 

Cheryl's cheeks had flushed pink and she flung her arms around Petunia. 

"Honey, we're so happy for you! Why haven't you sent them a reply? They won't think much of our family if you don't reply promptly!" 

__

How just like Mum, Petunia thought, angrily. "Listen, I am not going to some freak school! I am not different! I am not like greatgreatgreatgrandmawhat'sherfaceIamnormalandIamNOTGOING!" She decalred, very fast, and all in one breath. Her face was crimson now. 

Her parents' faces fell, they were clearly confused.

"But, honey…why wouldn't you want to learn magic?" Her father asked gently.

"You'll be able to do and learn so much that we could never even dream of doing…" Her mother added.

Petunia looked at her feet, brimming with anger at them; this was their fault, somehow. Her mind was blank. Why shouldn't she go? Left without repartee, she turned and fled back to her room, slamming the door with such force that an old family portrait fell to the floor, the glass in a thousand fractured pieces.

Cheryl gave her husband a hopeless look. "Harry…why on earth do you think she's reacting that way?"

Lily tugged at her sleeve. "Does she really think it's not…not normal?" Lily tugged more insistantly. 

"Mom…" She whispered. "Mom, I want to be a witch! Can I be a witch, too?"

"Shhh, Lily." Her father motioned Cheryl downstairs, fully intending to discuss Petunia without Lily hearing. But Lily, not one to be deterred, followed a few minutes after them, and quietly sat outside the kitchen, listening in.

"Well…" Her father's voice drifted out to her. "We don't have very much time to think. We'll have to write Dumbledore, one way or the other, before the 31st."

"Mmmhmm. I wish she would stop this obsession with 'normal.'" Cheryl sighed. "If I were her, I'd be overjoyed. I'd love to go to Hogwarts. How interesting it must be!"

"That's neither here nor there, Cheryl. We can't make up her mind for her. We can't force her to go."

"We could try talking it over with her. I don't think she'd listen. I always did wish she had a more open minded outlook on things." 

Lily mulled this over as she wandered out to the driveway to make a hopscotch. She found a branch that had fallen into the garden from an old tree. She picked off a little off-shoot, and made believe it was a wand. She danced around the garden, tapping the late summer flowers. She grinned happily and waved when the neighbours came outside. 

"I'm a witch! I'm making the flowers into faeries!" She stated.

"Are you, Miss Lily? Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?" The neighbour-lady said kindly, with a smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle.

"Oh, I'm a good witch!" Lily replied. "I didn't know there was such a thing as a bad witch!" 

"You're such a sweet girl, Lily! Make sure you turn some of my flowers into faeries, too." Neighbour-lady said, as she got into her car.

Petunia heard nothing, though her window was open. Her attention was directed inward. 

__

Why me?

The next morning, she came down to breakfast as though nothing out of the ordinary had been happening, and dropped raspberries on her cereal while she avoided her parents and their sideways glances. 

"Petunia," Her mother began. "You don't have to go to Hogwarts School if you don't want to. Your father and I won't push you into it. We want you to know that." 

Petunia nodded. 'Good. I'm not going. Ever. And I don't ever want to hear about it again."

Her father gave her a sorrowful look. Later that day, he sat down to compose a letter to Professor Albus Dumbledore, expressing his apologies on Petunia's decision. 


	6. Lily's Letter

The next few years passed much without incident. Petunia was turning into a lovely young lady, though a bit obsessed with appearing 'normal.' Stacks of magazines filled with the latest fashions – the ones _everyone _was wearing – lined her bookshelves. 

Lily, following her parents, made no mention of Hogwarts, witches, wizards, or any other abnormal topics near Petunia. Secretly, she still held to her dream of becoming a unicorn tamer. Since the day Petunia's letter had been discovered, she had realized that now, maybe, it was possible! She never relinquished her dream of finding a letter of her own.

Petunia, at thirteen, was now discovering that boys were not simply the uncouth creatures of messy hair and careless insults she had thought they were at eleven. They were mysterious creatures, to be studied at length, even if they were not to be spoken to. Her friends gathered round in her room, for long sessions of serious debate on this very subject. Often these debates lasted all night and into the morning hours, as they sat and ate popcorn. 

It was the morning after one of these long meetings that a shriek sounding from the front hallway, below her room, woke Petunia. _What the bloody…? _She tumbled, bleary eyed, out of bed to find out why Lily had made such noise while she, Petunia, was sleeping. 

Petunia collided with her parents as they all filed down the stairs to find out what the matter was. They stopped and watched Lily, dancing about in the hall, and hugging a heavy parchment envelope in to her chest. 

"I got a letter! I got a letter! I got a letter!" She chanted, twirling joyously in her socks on the wood floor. 

"Lily!" Her mother came to her senses "Stop that this instant! You might knock the painting off of the wall!" 

Lily's obviouis excitement could not be diminished by her mother's mundane reaction, and she ran into the kitchen where she skidded into the table. That subdued her long enough for her parents to follow her in.

"Well," Her father grinned happliy; "We already know what that is! Lily, I'm so proud of you – er, you _will _go, won't you?" He added.

"OF COURSE!" Lily nearly screamed. "I can't wait! I can't wait until September! I want to get my supplies now! Can we go now? Oh, mom, dad, I can't wait!" 

Petunia was lingering in the doorway of the kitchen, a look of horror and disbelief on her face. _What if one of my friends finds out that I have – that I'm related to…That Lily's a … a _… She was unable to finish her thought. She turned and ran back to her room, and she was preparing to slam her door. And then she it dawned on her. No one had noticed that she left. No one had seen that she was there. _What is _wrong _with them?!_

Why are they so happy to have this… this sort of…what are they thinking?! 

The next month of summer passed in a blur to Lily, but the days dragged dismally for Petunia as she watched the excited preparation. Lily was to depart from Platform 9 ¾ on September 1st. Petunia watched as Lily tried on her robes from Madam Malkins. She watched as Lily flipped through textbooks with moving photos, and played with her wand. She watched with the morbid curiousity of someone who is driving by a wrek on the side of the road. And she couldn't look away.

Finally, September 1st arrived. Lily couldn't sleep the night before, yet she was fresh and happy in the morning. She nervously played with her toast and jam without eating much at all. Petunia ate in stony silence and was rising to leave the table when Lily spoke.

"Pet…I'm gonna miss you when I go to school…"

Petunia said nothing, and shrugged. After a few moments, Lily tried again.

"Will you write me any letters?"

Petunia nodded, and tried to smile. Lily obviously didn't understand. She wasn't normal. And Petunia didn't feel like connecting herself with anything…strange. Especially that school. 

"I'll write you, Lil, but how will the letters get there?"

Lily smiled, reassured. "Owl. I'll send you an owl and I'm sure it will be able to take a letter back!" 

"Alright." Came Petunia's reply. She was already out of the kitchen and heading up the stairs. 

Harold and Cheryl Evans exchanged glances, but said nothing. 

"Hey, alright, mom, dad, can we start to pack my things now?" Lily's excitement had returned to its previous pitch. "I don't want to be late and miss the train…"


End file.
